A picture speaks 1000 words
by Skins Thunderbomb
Summary: G2 A short 1000 word story about the ghost we all know and love. He does a bit of reflecting to the past when he finds a picture in the Decepticon base. One Shot. Complete.


AN~ Set after the events of the movie.

A picture speaks 1000 words

I braced myself as I flew towards the mantelpiece. There was something familiar in here; something I wanted to see again. There was something here that drew me; I didn't know what it was. But my curiosity that had never left me drew me to it. As I drew closer, I noticed the object of my curiosity. A picture frame glistened in the dim light from the energon lamp above me. I drew closer.

And I gasped. 

In the picture, covered by a protective layer of glass, was Skywarp. He was sitting down with his legs crossed and hands in front of him, leaning to the side as a blue seeker casually leaned on him. His face was alight with laughter, his red optics slanted upward. The blue seeker was his oldest friend, Thundercracker. He was leaning against the black seeker with an expression that read '_hurry up and take it_', but his optics showed that he was content enough. His face was resting in his hand while his elbow rested on Skywarp's shoulder. His wings were folded back so the picture showed off his sleek form. Why he did that was beyond my mind, but then, Thundercracker had always amazed me. He was a thinker, and you never knew what they thought about.

And at the back behind Skywarp was … me. I was just standing there with my arms crossed, a rare, contented smile upon my face. There were no guns on our arms, no fraction symbols. No. We were going into the War Academy to learn to fight, and we would get our weapons then.

I remembered that day like yesterday. We were young, happy and carefree. We flew though the skies, dominating others with our skills. We were the ultimate team. We _were._

For all that has changed now. It wasn't long ago, but all of us are now dead. But my spark remains, and I have remained in the form of a ghost. 

I knew didn't deserve to come back.

Sure, I had killed thousands, maimed many more, rebelled against my leader, so what? But what I did aboard Astrotrain was unforgivable.

I had ultimately killed those two that I counted as my closest friends. Even if I had not done it myself, it still gave the order for the removal of the weakest ones. Thundercracker and Skywarp were among them, and I didn't care. But why did I feel …

Why did I feel sorrow? 

Why do I even care _now_?

Because now they were different. Skywarp, Thundercracker and the insecticons had become Galvatron's new henchmen in the form of the sweeps, Scourge and Cyclonus. But me? I remained as a ghost. 

I had suffered in my life. I had gone to the War Academy after I had lost Skyfire – my friend and companion in my journeys as a scientist. I missed being carefree and having no troubles to concern myself with.

But I had adapted. I became a seeker with my fellow brethren. I was happy, cruel and merciless.  I didn't care who I had killed, or why. I did it for our cause. For the Decepticons.

I rose though the ranks; Skywarp and Thundercracker rose with me like the jets we were. We soared once again above everyone. I became second-in-command soon after. I hated my leader, Megatron. Oh how I took pleasure in destroying him.

But at such a terrible price.

In the process, not only had I destroyed my best friends, but also I had prompted the resurrection of my leader and guarantied my own destruction. But I had finally got what had wanted for so long.

Leadership.

But in a strange sense, didn't I always have it? My friends looked up to me _as _a leader, but I had let myself become greedy and wanted more than I probably even deserved.

I closed my optics. Yes, I could not deny that I missed what we were and what I used to be, because I did. I was never childish like Skywarp, or pensive like Thundercracker. No … I was just this guy who led my friends in plans when we were young, and when we got in the army too. I was always in the limelight because of my status, but as I float here, as a ghost. I wonder …

Would I have made it without them?

I reach out a transparent hand and try to touch the photo of us all, but I cannot. I let my hand fall limp to my side, and I opened my optics. 

No, I had deserved to die. But I will not let that stop me from revenge.

I will kill Galvatron.

As a final tribute to the pain he has caused me.

I left the photo there. Its memories forever encased in the golden frame that surrounded it and the glass that covered it. It kept my brothers and me in the picture safe from the evils of the universe. It locked all the happiness of its moments in its cover, and all one had to do was touch it and remember and reflect. And become happy. But because I could not touch it I didn't feel happiness from the photo, I felt the despair of letting them down in the brief moment I was in that room, and I had felt drawn to it because I was confused as to what to do.

But now I knew.

It's time I stop relying on revenge to spite me. For once, I am secretly going to devote killing someone to the people I care about. But because I can't die, it won't bother me whose body I possess. Even if it is Cyclonus or the sweeps, I won't mind. They aren't Skywarp and Thundercracker now after all. 

I see my victim up ahead. He shall be the first to taste my wraith. For I dedicate this kill to you two.

May I be forgiven, I hope.

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How was it? Like it? Hate it? Review and tell me so please!

Exactly 1,000 words! w00t! I got the inspiration to write this when I drew the picture that is mentioned in the fic. The link will be in my profile soon.

I hope you enjoyed it.

ST 


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